Trickle
by anakinlove
Summary: So, this time Damian wets the bed see my previous story Drip and angst ensues.


**So, a long time a go, I wrote a story called Drip and I posted it. Don't look it up, it's shit. I went back and I looked at it and I cried. But, I can't delete it off my computer for sentimentality reasons. I keep everything, even the shit. Anyway, if you don't remember it, don't look it up, it's shit. But, batman fan 349 sent me a very nice review about how much he/she liked it. Back then (when I thought I was all hot stuff) I believed him/her. Then, batman fan 349 made a suggestion. He/she said that perhaps I should write a little story about Damian and Dick going through the exact same thing. The hunt was on and that night, I resolved to commit murder. I hated Damian and the mere thought of him being in one of my stories was blasphemy to the highest degree. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! Obviously, this is no longer so. The love Damian and I share now has simply blossomed, our affair growing ever stronger and making Timmy jealous, despite the fact that he should know I love him dearly, just as I do all his brothers and his smoking hot father. So, I shall now thank that wonderful person, batman fan 349, whomever you are, who gave me the idea for this little beauty and ****Yuuri-nyan****, who's fan fiction story I stumbled upon because I thought it was a story about Tim and Dick and ended up reading, which started me thinking that Damian maybe wasn't so bad. I highly recommend "The Joys of Brotherhood" which gave Damian the chance to prove his worth to me. I love you so much, you tiny angel of violence, you****! **

Damian Wayne was wet. Drenched in sweat after a heavy nightmare, his hair fell down around him almost as if he'd just jumped in a lake. But, his hair was not the only thing that was wet. He touched the bed. That was wet too. If Damian Wayne had a knife with him at that moment, he might have ended his own life. Luckily (or not so luckily, if you're Tim that is) Alfred had confiscated all his knives that morning.

"I'm ten years old", he growled softly to himself, "There must be another explanation. I am the son of Talia Ras Al Ghul and I do not wet the bed." But, after a quick run through all the possibilities, it was obvious that there could be no other explanation. "I can't believe it", Damian whispered to himself in the darkness, "I lost control."

The thought that perhaps he might just cut out the offending parts flew quickly to his mind, but that was discarded when he considered the implications, death being the one foremost on his mind. "Well", Damian said softly to himself, balling his fists, "This will probably only occur once, right? Things were just bad and Grayson did something. Yes, this is all Grayson's fault. I shall blame it exclusively on him."

Damian quietly resolved to kick Dick the next morning, rather painfully, for making him wet the bed. It was all part of his elaborate and completely irrational plan to make Damian miserable. Pleased with this explanation, Damian stripped the sheets off his bed, peeled off his sodden pajamas and pulled on some new clothes.

Then, he went into the closet and grabbed the spare sheets off the top shelf. Pulling them over the mattress, he lay back down, closing his eyes. Damian was not going to let this trouble him, no way, no how.

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"Damn it Damian", Dick whimpered, hands between his legs as he rocked on the floor.

"You deserved it", Damian replied stoically.

"What did I do?" Dick growled.

"You know", Damian replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, though secretly, he hoped Dick didn't, "I have to get to school. Pennyworth!" Alfred came in, rolling his eyes, and took in the sight of Dick on the ground, gnawing his bottom lip with tears of pain in the corners of his eyes.

"Come Master Damian, its about time we got you to school. I will see you when I return Master Dick." Dick nodded and cast Damian a murderous look as the younger boy walked out of the room. One of these days…

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"Tim, have you noticed something weird about Damian lately?" Dick asked as he swung at his younger brother. Tim dipped low and aimed a kick at Dick's tight abs. The older man dodged and bounced away.

"No", Tim replied, sliding low like a cat.

"I mean, he's just been so irritable." The kick meant for Tim caught him off guard that time, sending him sprawling backwards. "Sorry baby bro, did I hurt you?" Tim shook his head and launched himself upward again, bouncing towards Dick on the balls of his feet.

"What do you mean irritable?" the former boy wonder asked, "He's always irritable."

"Yea", Dick replied, rolling with one of Tim's punches, "but usually, he's not this irritable. He's been down right awful to live with." Finally, Tim connected, his kick knocking Dick's feet out from under him. The Dark Knight sprawled on the mat, panting. You alright, Tim asked. Dick nodded, grinning boyishly at his younger brother. "I mean look at him", he said, indicating small ten year old taking apart the training dummy with a fantastic series of kicks. Tim shrugged.

"I guess he's a little more militant than usual." He sat down on the mat next to Dick, cross-legged, and gazed at Damian as the boy leapt on top of the dummy before literally gnawing the head off. Tim grimaced. "I see your point, he usually doesn't use his teeth so much."

"You should have seen him last night with Killer Croc. I didn't know who I should be muzzling. He's been like this for three days now and I can't take it anymore. You have any ideas about what could be going on?"

"Maybe he's PMSing", Tim said casually, lying back on the mat. The Dark Knight rolled his eyes.

"Yea sure, that's it. I mean legitimate ideas." Dick rolled over so that he was on his stomach, his front propped up on his elbows with his bare feet waving in the air behind him.

"Think he misses Bruce?" Tim asked. Dick shook his head.

"I don't think that's it. I mean, he barely knew Bruce."

'Maybe he's in love."

"With who?"

"You."

"Not me, idiot, he's not in love with me."

"Well, they say if you act like you hate someone…"

"Then Damian would be in love with half the people on earth."

"Yea, guess you're right, alright, what about one of the little girls from his class." Damian gave a roar and ripped the training dummy in half before starting to tear at the stuffing inside. Tim and Dick looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"I pity her", Dick muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

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Damian yanked at his hair, pulling it out at the roots, in frustration and anger. He couldn't believe it. Four nights now, four nights! Why was this happening to him, why was he so weak? Unsure, frightened and wondering if this seeming loss of control was a sign of his impending demise, Damian curled up in a ball on his bed and trembled in the darkness, unfallen tears collecting in the corners of his eyes.

"Damian", a questioning voice called from the hallway. Determined to hide the source of his shame, Damian replied coarsely, "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep Grayson? Go away!" The quiver in his voice, however, gave him away.

"Hey kiddo, what's up, something wrong?" Dick came in and turned on the lights, sitting down on the end of Damian's bed. The boy wonder curled up in a tight, defensive ball over the tell tale wet spot on his bed and gazed at Dick like a badger in it's lair.

"Little one", Dick said softly, "What's up? I know something's wrong. You've been acting weird for three days now. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine Grayson", Damian snapped.

"Are you sick", Dick asked worriedly, pressing a hand to Damian's smooth brow.

"No."

"You feel a little warm, lets go downstairs and I'll take your temperature." Dick got up and started to walk towards the door, beckoning for Damian to follow.

"N…no", Damian stammered, unwilling to expose the evidence of his loss of restraint for even an instant.

"Why not?" Dick asked, "Come on, lets get this over with so you can go back to bed."

"No", Damian replied again, "Just go back to bed. I'll be fine."

"I'm gonna worry about you all night unless I make sure, now come on." Dick came back over and tried to take Damian's hand, but the boy drew it to his chest. Dick rolled his eyes and put his hands beneath Damian's armpits, intending to pick him up. Shock racked him when the boy's dull teeth clamped down on his arm.

"Shit Damian", Dick cursed, shaking his arm, "What was that for?"

"I'm not a Chihuahua, you can't just pick me up when you want me to go somewhere."

"Well, if you'd go willingly, I wouldn't have to pick you up. Now, come on!" He gave Damian a rough shove, intending to show Damian he was serious, but was shocked when the boy toppled backwards off the bed. "Damian", Dick yelped, I'm so sorry. Are you ok?"

"It's fine", Damian snapped, picking himself up. "Just leave me alone and go back to bed."

"Here", Dick said, climbing up onto Damian's bed to help the younger boy up. He paused. "Damian, is this wet?"

"No", Damian replied, getting up quickly, "It is not, now go away." Dick noticed he had gone a little pale. He ran his hand over the sheets experimentally and frowned.

"Damian, did you wet the bed?"

"No", Damian replied, "Go!" It was then that Dick noticed the wet spot on Damian's black pajama pants, right between the boy's legs and the guilty, frenzied expression on the child's face.

"Damian", Dick said gently, "Why didn't you just tell me?' Seeing that he could keep up the façade of normalcy any longer, Damian gave a defeated whimper and collapsed onto his bed. "Damian", Dick said soothingly, "It's ok. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm the son of Talia Ras Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, the Batman", Damian cried angrily, losing his cool for the second time that night, "I'm not supposed to do things like this. There's something wrong with me and I can't figure out what it is. I'm falling apart." Damian gazed pathetically at Dick, a single tear running down his cheek. Dick surprised the younger boy with a chuckle.

"You're not falling apart Damian. I think you're overreacting a bit here. It's not the end of the world, you just wet the bed. Every kid does, I did." Damian rolled his eyes.

"I could have predicted that, you always were weak. The incredible part is that father didn't get rid of you." Now, it was Dick's turn for an eye roll.

"The point is Damian", Dick continued forcibly, determined to shift the focus of the conversation away from him "The point is, it's ok. You wet the bed, now we move on."

"But", Damian whispered softly, "This is the fourth time."

"The fourth time", Dick said incredulously, "You've been hiding it for that long?" Damian's nod was barely perceptible.

"Poor baby", Dick crooned, putting his arm around Damian's shoulders. The gentle weight that accompanied Damian's leaning into him surprised Dick, as did the trembling. "You should have come to me", Dick said gently.

"What can you do?" Damian muttered.

"Well, you know talking helps", Dick replied, "Helped me, at least. I used to wet the bed when I had nightmares. Is that what's been happening to you?" Dick took the following silence as an affirmative and brushed his lips over Damian's short hair. "You wanna talk about it?" Almost a minute passed before the boy spoke.

"It…it's always the same way." Damian gazed up at Dick, who nodded encouragingly. Damian leaned in closer. "You are there and we are on patrol with Drake and then…and then you both turn to me, and you start attacking me. I can't defend and then, I'm near the edge of a building.

I'm pleading and asking you to save me, because I'm teetering on the edge, but you two just laugh and point and I fall. Then, I'm falling and I'm falling to the sewers below, where Killer Croc is, ready to consume me. Then, I wake up and I'm wet."

The haunted look on Damian's face did not go away when he stopped speaking, prompting Dick to rub his arm reassuringly, reminding the boy that he was still there. "Damian, it's just the dream that's making this happen. You're not falling apart."

"But", Damian said desperately, "I've had nightmares before; this has never happened. Mother would have killed me." Dick smoothed his hair.

"Perhaps a dream has just never affected you this deeply before." He moved Damian onto his lap, ignoring the fact the boy was still wet, and put his arms around him. Damian just let him, making it blatant to Dick just how disturbed he was. "Damian, I promise you, nothing like that can ever happen because Tim and I just love you too much."

Damian looked up at him, doubt painted across his young features. "Yes, Tim too in his own weird way. I have no doubt in my mind he would take you on in a heartbeat if anything ever happened to me. Which it won't", he added quickly at the end, seeing the troubled look on the boy's face. With that, he stood up, holding Damian tightly in his arms and gazed into the boy's bright blue eyes.

"Whenever dreams trouble you," he said softly, putting a hand behind the boy's head to press it to his shoulder, "just come talk to me. I promise, I'll never be angry and I'll never send you away. I'm not going to think less of you because of this either. I know that's what you were thinking. Now, why don't you get changed so you can go back to bed."

Dick put the boy down on the bed and turned to walk out the door, intending to leave him for the night if that was Damian's wish. "Dick", the small boy called softly.

"You want some help little d?" Dick asked, having known exactly what Damian wanted even before he asked. The boy wonder nodded hesitantly, as if he wasn't quite sure. Dick fished some dry clothes out of the drawers and handed them to Damian. "You get changed; I'll change your sheets."

Once Dick had stripped the bed and redressed it, he turned to the ten year old, who was scuffing on bare foot against the other, his tiny toes digging into the carpet. Smiling affectionately, Dick scooped Damian up and carried him over to the bed, placing him down upon it after pulling back the freshly changed sheets. "Lets get you all tucked in", he murmured, pulling the covers up to Damian's chin. He pushed back the boy's dark hair and placed a kiss his small forehead. "Goodnight Damian, I love you."

"Perhaps," Damian piped up suddenly, "perhaps you might stay here for a spell. After all, you could still get nightmares and I suppose it is my duty as your partner to protect you from them." A small smile crawled across Dick's lips and he ran a hand through Damian's hair.

"That's rather thoughtful of you teddy bear, I appreciate the gesture. Perhaps I will stay awhile." With Dick sitting on his bed, Damian felt safer in that somewhat drafty room than he had in a long while and allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. Dick's weight shifted and he hummed a quiet tune, all the while stroking Damian's hair. The boy relaxed and rolled to one side. It was still all Grayson's fault, so it was only right that he now rectify the situation. In the future, he should really learn to be more careful.


End file.
